The Psychotic and the Saviour: Blood for Tea
by Fight Dirty
Summary: What if the episode Hat Trick wasn't appropriate for the family; how could the episode turn out? Read to find out just what happens when Jefferson is psychotic and Emma just happens to be looking for "spot". One-shot R&R please


A knock interrupts my sharpening and I sigh, knowing all too well who it would be. I get up as she is knocking for a second time and make my way towards the front door. Rumplestiltskin had said she'd be dropping by and because of the favour I owed him I was going to allow this transaction to occur. I open the door and give her a look up and down, taking in her pristine attire before speaking, "Your majesty." I lean against the doorframe and make the motion of crossing my arm over my chest, trying to dispel the bad feeling I'm getting from her presence.

"Jefferson," she says, a smirk playing on her lips. "I wish I could say riches suit you, but I'd be lying."

I roll my eyes and resist the urge to hurt her in some way before giving her a glare. "What do you want Regina," I ask, quickly growing agitated and fidgety.

"You don't invite a guest in for tea," she inquires in a sarcastic tone.

I turn from my position against the door frame and into the mansion; calling over my shoulder as I move farther into the hallway, "Of course, anything for you your majesty," my tone is biting.

I hear her footsteps behind me, shutting the door, before following me. She comes into the room as I'm pouring the tea into the cup. I hand it to her carefully, "Why are you really here?" I question. "What do you want this time?"

She blows on the steaming cup in her hands before taking a seat on the lounge chair across from me. "I've noticed you've had an eye on Miss Swan like I had asked." I nod in response hesitantly wondering as to what she could be getting at. "Good," she starts. "Later tonight Snow White is going to escape from her cell; she'll try to escape through the forest. Make sure she doesn't. Keep her here for a few days, than I will be back."

Regina places her barely touched drink onto the coffee table before getting up and moving to leave. I can't resist the urge to ask about the voluptuous blonde sheriff, "and when Miss Swan comes to look for her; what then?"

Regina pauses in her walking and turns with an evil smirk on her lips, "do with her what you will; I have no need for Miss Swan in my town." When I give her a similar smirk she requests one more thing, "Leave no evidence Jefferson. Or you'll never get the chance to see Grace again." With those final words lingering in my head she leaves; her heels clicking down the hall. I zone out for a few moments as I think of Grace; my baby, my life. I will never forgive myself for leaving her alone, and when I get her back I will never lose her again.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts of her; much darker ones taking their place. I grin to myself as I get up and head towards the back of the house; I have stuff to prepare for later.

All I know is one thing though; tonight was going to be very interesting.

….

Snow White had done exactly as the queen had said and had gone through the forest. However she never made it far, I was on her tail the moment she left the station. Now as I'm walking through the rain on the main road, I feel excitement and heat course through my body at the thought of the blonde. It takes no more than five minutes later for Miss Swan's yellow bug to come racing down the road. I dive and roll, down the hill a few feet as she swerves, narrowly avoiding me.

…

I push her forward with the muzzle of my gun pressed into her back. I look her up and down quickly wanting nothing more than to take her right there in the hallway. I resist for I have so many plans for the night; images flash through my head, most of her, most with her and me very intimate.

"That room, on the right," I say motioning to the one I'm talking about. She opens the door after a moment's hesitation and I shove her into the room.

_**(Insert part from T.V. show here; their talk about magic and stuff but the ending is different)**_

"I'll make the hat for you, or I'll try, just don't do something you'll regret," she says as she takes in the situation I've laid out for her.

"Miss Swan," I say, caressing her side with the gun. "On your knees please." When she doesn't reply I grow irritated and grab onto her neck where it connects with her shoulder. She lets out a small gasp at my sudden action and it sends shivers down my spine in anticipation. I push her roughly onto her knees in front of the sewing table set up and take her confiscated handcuffs out of my pocket. She looks up at me, her doe-eyes wide and I yank her right arm towards me. Slapping the cuffs onto her wrist, I thread the other one around the table leg before attaching it to her left wrist. From my kneeling position beside her I grab her face roughly and turn it towards me. She meets my gaze defiantly and yanks on the cuffs, never looking away. "Oh I'm going to enjoy this," I growl as I push her head away and stand up. I place the gun on the table and grab for the whip; I give her a grin.

"Let me go this instant," she yells the slightest tremble in her lower lip the only indication of her fear.

I crack the whip against the floor in warning and watch her tense, the muscles in her back straining and rippling. "You have no control here Emma," I purr as I move a lock of her hair behind her ear; giving me a better view of her face. "Just relax."

"Go to Hell," she spits at me.

I give her a chuckle, "I'm already here Emma. Don't you know what it's like knowing when no one else does? That is my curse; my own personal Hell. But it's your lucky day because you're about to join me forever; and when we get Grace back we'll be a family again, together."

"You're psychotic," she mutters. I give her another grin but don't reply, instead lifting the whip. She gasps as the whip cracks against her back and I watch her body jolt forward at the sudden pain, muscles clenched and the measly tank top she's wearing tear open the slightest bit, revealing more of her delectable skin to me. I grin again and bring the whip down in three quick strokes, striking skin and cloth; both the latter and former tearing on contact. The fourth time I whip her she lets loose barely controlled scream.

"There it is," I say menacingly. I lean down and grab her face again turning it towards me; I hold her face in place taking in the tears in her eyes and give her a quick peck on the lips, pulling away before she can either bite or head butt me. "I want you to count," I tell her. "Every time I whip you and I want to hear it out loud."

I release her jaw again and she lowers her head. I crack the whip against her back a fifth time and hear her pant in pain before she speaks, "One," she almost whispers.

"Louder," I yell cracking the whip again. She jolts at contact and I can see her knuckles whiten as she squeezes her fingers harder against the cuffs holding her in place.

"Two," she pants.

Crack.

"Three."

Crack.

"Four," her panting increases with every lash she receives.

Crack.

"Five," her back is a raw, bloody mess at this point.

Crack.

"Six," she whimpers.

She reaches to the count of eleven, which in total are fifteen whips before I stop. I watch in wonder as I shift my weight from one foot to the other and her breath hitches, preparing for another hit. I sit down beside her, placing the whip on the floor and take in her form. Her chest is heaving, body trembling, eyes watering but her eyes stay focused on one spot on the floor, not moving. I cluck my tongue and watch in curiosity that this is what makes her flinch; the sudden noise. I shift to behind her, still on the floor but on my knees this time and I'm out of her view. She tenses again, before I even move my hands. When I do move my hands I bring them up in front of me, hovering over her back. I bring them down slowly and trace the wounds in her flesh I created, feeling every twitch and every squirm she makes. She whimpers almost so quiet I don't hear it as I dig my finger into one of the lacerations. I get a grip on what's left of the back of her tank top and pull until the material snaps in my hands. She flinches as bits of the material rubs against her back.

"It is going to be okay princess," I coo, giving her arm a light, hopefully comforting squeeze. "But I just can't wait to see what you're hiding under here." I stand, moving to her side and reaching onto the sewing table for a pair of scissors. Once I have them in my hands I turn to her and bend down, bringing the scissors to her arm. She flinches again at the cool metal but I continue on, slipping the scissors around the straps on her top and cutting it. With the one strap cut I transition to the other side and do the same thing. With that done I pull what's left of her shirt off. Surprisingly she doesn't move; I don't like that. I take the keys to the cuffs out of my pocket and unhook her left wrist. I pull her into a standing position, putting the keys back where they were and turn her towards me. I grab her chin and force her head up, so she is looking into my eyes; and then I give her a once over. My sight line travels from her eyes, to her lips and jaw, moving down over the rest of her body I take in her great shape. Her taut stomach is perfect as I bring my hand up to it. She tries to pull away but my grip on her arm tightens; I run the hand on her stomach up to cup her breasts, clad only in a simple cotton bra.

"Get your hands off of me," She growls looking at me defiantly; that just won't do. I whip around so fast she doesn't have time to comprehend what is happening and slam her into the wall. She screams in pain as her back comes into contact with the wall and I give her a grin. As she regains her breath I cuff her wrists together again and attach them to the conveniently placed hook above her head. She tries to pull her hands away from the wall and I watch as the muscles in her stomach and arms ripple. "No, no, no," she moans quietly. I grab her hips and pull them flush against mine, massaging circles into the bare skin of her lower stomach.

"I'll take good care of you, don't worry," I say before placing a sweet kiss on her sensual lips. She tries jerking her head away but I bring my hands up to hold her in place as I deepen the kiss; nipping at her lower lip. I pull away reluctantly and look deep into her eyes as I wipe stray wisps of hair from her face; caressing her cheek and rubbing a finger over her lips. I give her another peck before taking in my handiwork; her lips are swollen and she's trying very hard to even her breathing, good. "I must go my love; I have other business to attend at the moment. But don't fret, I'll be back." I give her cheek a quick pat before walking towards the table and grab the gun.

The silence follows me for a few seconds before I open the door, as soon as I do though she speaks, "If you hurt my friend, I'll kill you." All I do is give her a wicked grin before shutting the door. Her pleas are music to my ears, as she begs for her friend's safety and curses at me.

I walk down the hall past Snow White's room to the kitchen, going about boiling water over the stove. While it does that I head back to Snow's room. When I open the door, her eyes grow wide in fear. I stalk towards her and kneel in front of her, pulling the gag from her mouth.

"What have you done to her," she pleads, tears glistening in her eyes.

"It doesn't matter," I reply. "But if you don't do exactly what I say I will kill her; do you understand?" She pauses before nodding. "Good. Now scream."

Her facial expression drops into one of confusion. "Scream? Why would I," she falters at my glare.

"As loud as you can," I urge grinning. After another minute and a wave of the gun in her direction she lets loose a pitiful scream that holds for only a few seconds. "Again," I say. "Louder." She does as asked until she's cut off by the gun going off. Instinctively she stops and looks at me in shock and then looks at the wall where there is clearly a smoking hole. When she looks back at me again I give her another glare, brunettes were never really my type. "No questions," I say when she looks about ready to do so. With that handled I fix the gag in her mouth and leave the room; shutting off the light I leave her alone in darkness.

…

I walk back into the sewing room carrying the teapot and gun on a tray. I grin in her direction as I walk in. She looks up at me with tears streaming down her face as I set the tea down. I walk over to her and stand in front of her, reaching for her hands and pulling them from the hook. I let her drop to the floor as her legs collapse from under her; sobs rise from her trembling form. I stoop down beside her and roll her onto her side.

She stutters out, "Did…you…?" I give her a grin in response and another sob rises from her as fresh tears fall. "No, no, please."

"Sorry doll face," I say casually before grabbing her under the arms and hoisting her up. I lay her on the cleared sewing table, placing her on her back. She hisses in pain as the cool table top comes into contact with her tender and sore back. She doesn't fight back anymore at this point, but I'm not quite prepared to believe her. I grab her arms and force them above her head, attaching the cuffs around her wrists to another conveniently placed hook. She pulls on them testing the durability and gets another barely concealed look of panic on her face. I take a rope from beside the table and tie one end around her legs, then the other end to the table legs; making sure she had no room maneuver. As I look back up at her face I see it contorted in pain, from trying to twist out of my grip on her legs. I smirk as I grab for the teapot and place it by her head before I get up onto the table and straddle her stomach. She grunts and then whimpers as I allow her to hold some of my weight. I place my hands on either side of her head so I'm leaning over her and bend down to kiss her lips. She twists her head at the last second and I end up kissing her cheek which only propels me forward to kiss down her cheek to her neck; nipping at her neck as I make my way down. She squirms as I suck on her skin, down her neck and onto her soft breasts. I stay there for a while, nipping, licking and then biting down not giving one more attention than the other. After a while of this I pull away, looking down to see hickey's littering her upper body. Looking up at her face I see her eyes closed and take that as my opportunity. I grab the teapot with one hand still supporting my own weight over her and raise it above her hands. Slowly I pour the burning liquid onto her wrists, watching as her eyes pop open and she screams. I slide my lips onto hers, swallowing her screams of pain as I continue pouring the tea onto her wrists. She tries jerking on the cuffs and away from me, tears falling in rapid succession, still screaming and openly crying.

I pull away from her lips the same time I stop pouring the tea over her wrists; with her sobs increasing I put the pot down by her head. "Sh," I console wiping the tears from her face and brushing her hair out of her eyes. I climb off her and get down from the table, running a hand over her trembling stomach. I untie her legs and unhook her cuffs. She curls herself into a ball and clutches her wrists to her chest, taking in the damage done to them.

"How could you," she sobs, looking up at me. "What do you want?"

I stroke the side of her face, "you my darling princess." I pause before adding, "You know you remind me of someone, visited wonderland once; she claimed she fell down a rabbit hole."

She looks at me confused, "Alice?"

"So you've heard of her. The witch got what she had coming to her and now, the same is going to happen to you." I grin as the look of terror returns on her face.

I grab a fistful of her hair and she screams again as I yank her towards me. "Let go," she screams in pain as she's pulled from the table. I drag her across the room and out the door and she continues to struggle. I pull her down the hallway and into another room; my bedroom. I let go and scoot around her shutting and locking the door. I turn back to see her trying to get up, wincing with every move.

"Now love, we can't have this can we," I taunt, grabbing her by the arms and dragging her to the bed; I throw her on. I stand back for a second, watching as she scrambles, trying to get into a better defensive position before I start climbing on. I straddle her waist as she twists, trying to buck me off. Her face is contorted to a look of anger and pain as I grab her wrists and force them above her head. She yelps as my heated skin makes contacts with her burns. I force her flat on her back and watch her face carefully as she has a battle of wills with herself, tears falling rapidly but no screaming. With her hands pinned above her head I go for her jeans; undoing the button before forcing the rough fabric over her hips, she continues fighting but it just urges me on. Leaving her pants half off for the moment I lay my weight onto her, every inch touching. She grunts at this and squirms some more causing me to groan in pleasure as she causes friction between us; immediately she stops.

A look of horror washes over her face as I grin and murmur into her ear, "Why stop now love; you were just getting me going?" I grab her face with one hand; still keeping her wrists pinned with the other and forcing my lips onto hers. I slide my tongue past her lips and let it caress hers, feeling as the bed dips from her trying to dig herself deeper into it. She makes noises of protest, trying to get out of my grip on her face. When I finally release her, she gasps for breath.

"Let me go, you son of a bitch," she screams breathlessly. I ignore her and proceed in yanking her jeans farther down her legs. When the pants are as far off as I can reach while still pinning her down, I let go of her wrists with a warning glare. I shimmy down her body, letting my hands caress every inch of her on the way down and pull her shoes off, quickly followed by the jeans. I kiss and lick my way up her smooth legs, until I reach the one spot I've been craving for. I kiss her through the fabric of her underwear, listening closely as her breath hitches. I waste no time in ripping them off and that is when she starts fighting me again. I grab her legs and pull them apart, crawling up between them. As she tries twisting away I grab onto her hips and hold her down. She starts crying again as I unzip my pants.

….

After the deed is done I pull away from her; she curls into a ball and sobs quietly into her knees. I turn away from her and zip up my pants. I hear her shuffling on the bed but think nothing important of it as I go to grab her discarded clothes. I hear the thud before I feel it and fall forward, watching through half shut eyelids and blood as she takes the keys to the cuffs from my pocket. I watch her leave in slow motion, watching as she never turns back once she's out of the bedroom.

….

_**A/N: so first Once fanfic posted hope you enjoy. The rest of the scene from the show happens after this, the fight with Emma, Mary-Margret and Jefferson and the whole knocking/kicking into the hat thing so yeah, this was just my take on what would happen if this wasn't a "family show". Read and Review please.**_


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